[jempurple]

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

I love how nature simply is. It doesn’t pretend. It doesn’t conceal. It whispers, it sings, it reveals. It takes from itself and gives abundantly back to itself. It transforms but it never alters. It fiercely punishes but it also preserves and contains. Such raw magnificent simplicity and honesty in its processes. The entire verb “to be” freely flowing and teaching sustenance, truth and raw perseverance.

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Every time you can’t find the right words just remember that most of the time there is no need to verbalize at all. There’s nothing more poetic than your own inner silence. There’s nothing more outstandingly beautiful or terrifying than the thoughts which are “stubborn” enough to find no expression at the time. Accept restlessness. Accept temporary incapacity of eloquence or mindful, concrete realization. Cherish complexity, confusion and silence. Cherish the current flow of your own being. What doesn’t immediately come out, stays inside; but that shall not scare you. Look deeply into it all. And have patience. 

[violentwavesofemotion]

“Be careful when you cast out your demons that you don’t throw away the best of yourself.”

— Friedrich Nietzsche, from Thus Spoke Zarathustra (via violentwavesofemotion)

[violentwavesofemotion]

“What I love in you is your power of loving, a bit wild, a bit primitive, but absolute.”

— Renée Vivien, tr. by Jeanette H. Foster, from “A Woman Appeared To Me,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[davidhudson]

David Bowie, January 8, 1947 – January 10, 2016.

1976 photo by Andrew Kent.

[museoweb]

Maurice Denis - Baccanale - 1920

[nocnaviola-deactivated20231025]

Maurice Denis

[silent-poetry-deactivated202211]

Maurice Denis

[nobrashfestivity]

Maurice Denis, from Amour

color lithographs on paper, 62.8 cm x 48 cm Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam

[peaceinthestorm]

Maurice Denis (1870-1943, French) ~ Annonciation aux glycines, Orvieto (esquisse), 1931

[Source: Sotheby’s]

[violentwavesofemotion]

“I let myself go, and made myself some coffee.”

— Anton Chekhov, from a letter to his sister written c. May 1890 (via violentwavesofemotion)

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Amy WInehouse during a performance of “Love Is A Losing Game”  featured in the Tiscali Sessions (x)

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Amy Winehouse // Mod Club Interview c. May 2007 (x)

[carmelas]

me when i’m the eldest daughter in a tv drama

[ashlinncovere]

It was a silly, silly dream being unhappy.

[orlagartlands]

“For she was a child, throwing bread to the ducks, between her parents, and at the same time a grown woman coming to her parents who stood by the lake, holding her life in her arms which, as she neared them, grew larger and larger in her arms, until it became a whole life, a complete life, which she put down by them and said, ‘This is what I have made of it! This!’ And what had she made of it?”

— Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway